Of Gods, Questions And Headaches
by pam halliwell
Summary: Total Lit Fluff. Oneshot. The night before their wedding: Great plans are just shot to hell sometimes.


**A/N: **Ok so this is my first story and I am super nervous but I thought maybe I wouldn't go totally off if I stuck with a one-shot fluff. Little funny sidenote: The inspiration for this came right in the middle of me studying my Maupassant quotes! I swear inspiration is like a curveball!

Now I'm not sure if Jess might sound OOC. I'd really like to know what people think/

Oh I almost forgot:

**Disclaimer: **To those of you up in your big fancy seats, who have nothing better to do and pick on people who write fanfic!... I am in no way associated with 'Gilmore Girls', its creators, actors (past or present) etc etc etc

**Of Gods, Questions And Headaches**

This was getting ridiculous. Wait, scrap that, it got ridiculous 5 HOURS AGO. The were supposed to be getting married tomorrow and his bride-to-be, the little missus, the future mother of his children (ok that is too heavy a thought for him to think about right now) WAS NOT SPEAKING TO HIM.

Everything had been fine at the rehearsal dinner, well lunch. Damn it, why did Lorelai always have to do things differently? Oh that's right, because h had asked her to. He wanted to be alone with Rory the night before they went off to their respective excited parties of gabbing groom's men and bride's maids. He wanted to go and get his suit and walk into the inn with the most calm and serene expression on his face as though getting married was an everyday occurrence. And he wanted to know that Rory Gilmore (soon to be Mariano – ok he got way too much of a kick thinking about that) would do the exact same thing. He wanted to smile a wistful smile while doing up his cufflinks, thinking of how Lorelai was probably crying and ranting about the time she called Rory "Droopy Drawers" and lane was squealing and jumping while fixing the veil. He would smirk at the thought of Paris dressed in the turquoise custom-made bride's maids dresses (that Lorelai had slaved over) calling him a Neanderthal, seemingly insulting Rory for her choice in men but secretly giving her sign of approval to the whole affair.

But Rory would just smile. The same smile he had on his face. And she would think the same thought but in reverse… Luke bumbling his way through but never prouder. TJ and his inappropriate yet loveable remarks and Zach… well Zach was married to Lane after all…

But all that went to the crapper 5 hours ago when Rory GILMORE, YES GILMORE (she's got another thing coming if she thinks he'll marry her with this attitude) decided TO STOP SPEAKING TO HIM.

He sighed for what seemed the millionth time that night. There she was in all her pre-marital glory, making notes for her assignment that wasn't due till long after their honeymoon. She knew he hated it when she wrote notes in bed. She said he inspired her best work while he was next to her. Normally he would proceed to grab her pad and pen and throw them on the floor and kiss her with every ounce of passion he possessed. She would proceed to forget which newspaper she even worked for.

But something told him this was not a normal night. And doing what he normally does would earn him a glare/scowl and a renewal of said writing of notes.

God was really having his fun with him tonight. Once he was in the bathroom, he decided to retrace his steps. Ok the last thing they had been doing before the kamikaze silent treatment was walking back to the apartment above the diner. They were laughing, kissing, his arm around her shoulder. He thought for sure he was getting laid tonight. Wait he hadn't said that out loud had he? No. And besides he's said worse things than that and all he got was an hour of the dreaded silence.

Damn her, damn her to the bottomless pits of hell. She knew he couldn't stand silent treatment. It ranked way up there with his butt being within close proximity of Miss Patty… bizarre and leaving an odd queasy feeling. God, if he didn't love her as much as he did…

Hold it! He lifted his head quickly and hit the medicine cabinet by mistake. He let out a curse and knew she was giving him an unimpressed glance from the bedroom… Screw it the whole united federation of gods was yukking it up tonight…

That, that GILMORE! Somehow that summed up all of her treachery. He wouldn't be surprised if her mother had gotten that damn question in her head.

Somewhere between the joke on how to keep Emily's mouth shut when the priest says "If anyone has any objections" and him getting a soda, she had asked "Why do you love me?"

He finally recalled what she had asked. With his face buried in the icebox he hadn't heard her clearly and she assumed that his expressionless face was him being his usual difficult self. He wasn't dumb enough to be difficult the night before he was scheduled to marry her. But no, she had to go ask a million dollar question while he was getting a damn soda.

He had really wanted to defy tradition and have sex with his wife right after and right BEFORE the wedding.

Great plans are just shot to hell sometimes.

But how the hell could she have asked a question like that? He assumed that when your fiancé went out to get you chocolate ice cream in the middle of the night, not because you were hypothetically pregnant and craving (no that would somehow make sense) but because you just FELT LIKE IT, you didn't question why he loved you, you just KNEW HE DID!

He rubbed his temples at the beginning of yet another Rory-induced headache. Really, why did he love her? Oh that's right she was the only person who gave him inspiration to write, the only person he ever stayed up all night worrying about. She was his frikkin North star ok!

But what possessed her to think he would answer that question? Didn't she get that he wrote so he wouldn't have to speak? Weren't the metaphors in his books or the notes in the margins enough? No! she wanted it in black on white or voice in silent room or whatever!

Sigh number million and one. damn her. He felt two inches tall. Her hair fell like a curtain around her face, obscuring her vision of him. He was going to have to give in if he ever wanted to touch that her again.

Ok deep breaths. Why he loves her… Three time New York Times Best Seller List occupant and words were utterly failing him! Oh Dan Brown would love this story at the next writer's convention. Time for never before seen strategies, not thinking before talking… great now he was Lorelai.

"You're so determined." It's true. That's what he had kept thinking while praying for her to develop temporary amnesia and forget about the silent treatment. "You're always determined in anything you do. Normally it works in my favour but as you can see we seem to be pushing for firsts tonight."

He couldn't see it but she smirked right then. A small smirk, at the thought of them.

He looked around exasperated. "We fit you know. I don't mean that in the cheesy way of 'You complete me!'. You do but we're not pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I've always been a Scrabble guy. Ok obvious analogy but I like that the game's entirely in my hands yet there are rules that don't impose but you fall back on. You've always been a Twister girl. You shift to what life deals you yet you keep to certain confines. Twister and Scrabble are very similar games."

He didn't know where the hell all this was coming from. She was secretly falling in love with him all over again.

"See your damn tangents. They've infiltrated everywhere. I bet if the walls could talk, they'd rant just like you! You got me making board game comparisons for crying out loud Ror! But you know what I don't care because your rants are one of the two things I thank God you inherited from your mother. That and your eyes. God you eyes! Although have you ever noticed that they're not exactly the same shade of blue as your mother's. which is great for me or else it would creep me out. But your rants and your eyes are the only things that make sense to me anymore!"

At this she had to look up and looked him dead in the eyes. He knew he was back in safe territory but somehow he couldn't stop.

"I love that you can express an entire book full of words with one glance. Like right now."

Here eyes flashed ten different emotions.

"I don't know how you do it. And don't get me started on your lists. Those stupid lists that I want to tear up but every time I'm about to I feel like I'm about to tear up an ancient and rare document. I love our routine when we're late to somewhere, how we end up finding exactly what the other is looking for. I love that you spotted our couch because I swear it fell from God's living room.

"I love the colour of your hair and how much you love my cooking but aren't afraid to tell me what could be better."

Suddenly she cut him off with her lips on his. She pulled back and gave a small, sweet smile. "I love you," she said softly.

"Oh sure you get the easy way out," he breathed out, still taken aback by the kiss.

She giggled. "I knew you'd give in eventually."

"What?"

"Whoops, I wasn't supposed to say that out loud was I? Now don't look at me like that Jess. If I had asked you after we got married, you would have said something like 'What does it matter now that we're stuck with each other'"

He smirked, not only at how well she knew him but at the supposed deep voice she put on to imitate him. Add that to the list!

"So it was tonight or never. And I needed a plan to make sure you'd answer. Something bigger than pouting. And see it worked." Her triumphant smile almost sickened him.

"You're twisted you know that."

"But you lo…"

He slapped his hand over her mouth. "I don't want to hear that word again tonight." And as though to emphasize his point he kissed her hard. He grabbed the pen and pad and threw them on the floor and wrapped his arms around her waist. Huh, maybe his plan might follow through after all.

Somewhere he could hear the gods applauding and cheering him on.

**A/N: **Ok so that's it. Please leave a note. Even flames I guess are ok. I just really want to know what people think.

Btw, is anybody out there psyched about Milo being in Fergie's new video? I know I am and personally I've gotten used to the idea of the ponytail :)


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